


Entertain Us

by darrenmalik



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Harry, Daddy Kink, Exhibitionism, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Public Hand Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Teasing, Top Louis, Voyeurism, liam and niall are very minor im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darrenmalik/pseuds/darrenmalik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "Louis likes to tease; always leaving Harry in awkward situations to finish himself off. Until one time he doesn't. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entertain Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tvfeels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tvfeels/gifts).



> i was given this lovely prompt. 
> 
> i really hope you like it, love, and i hope i at least ticked off some of the things you wanted to read. 
> 
> any mistakes are my own, i do not own any of the characters/ people described in this piece of fiction and i do not make any profit off publishing this.

This can't be happening. Ever since Harry admitted to Louis - in a bit of a drunken haze - that he was more than a bit attracted to him, Louis's been all over Harry (with a cheeky glint in his eyes, of course). (Harry might have also told him he had a bit of a daddy kink, but that's neither here nor there.)

He's really overstepping a line now, though. 

Harry's sprawled over the couch in his backstage dressing room, an hour before showtime, still in one of his casual shirts and a pair of joggers. Louis, contrarily, is wearing next to nothing. How hilarious. Casual. 

"Mate, have you seen my sweats?", Louis drawls out and stretches a bit, ruffling his hair with one hand. Aside from his loose and worn boxers, he's completely naked. Loose and worn boxers that cling to his soft hips, the cotton almost a bit see-through in places, the fabric moulding around the hefty shape of his prick. Harry's definitely not blushing. 

"I don't-", Harry clears his throat, his blush even more prominent. "I don't think so." His fingers are playing with the hem of his shirt, the need to do something to distract himself from the sight of his barely-clothed best mate almost unbearable. 

Oh fuck. The thing with Louis is that nobody should ever give him a sign of their discomfort, not if they can prevent it, because in nine out of ten cases, he'll try to make it worse. Harry should know better than to let it show how flustered he is. Too late now, though. 

Louis checks him out with a cheeky grin on his handsome face, his eyes drifting from the obvious blush on Harry's cheeks to the way he's biting his bottom lip, down to the visible flush on his chest above his shirt's collar, and even further down to where one of his hands is resting on his tense thigh. 

Louis's eyes stay focused on the slight swell of Harry's bulge in his sweatpants for a few seconds, and his smile falters. Harry's brows knit together in confusion when he notices that Louis is blushing as well. 

"What a shame", Louis replies airily to what Harry had said ages ago, obviously trying to pick up where the conversation left off. Or to make things even harder for his friend, Harry guesses, when Louis turns around to theatrically search for his discarded joggers. Giving Harry a full view of how the boxers cling to Louis's bum, a bit of fabric stuck in the cleft between his cheeks. Louis's skin is golden all over, soft-looking. He's a damn tease and he knows it. "Oh, found them", Louis whispers - his back still turned to Harry -, voice airy and raspy, and bends down. 

Harry can hear the sound of fabric ripping, the soft hem of his shirt, now torn, scrunched up between his fingers. Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck. As Louis is bending down, his thighs strain and a hint of his hole is almost visible through his clinging boxers. His thick but lean thighs are straining with effort as he picks up his joggers and Harry grits his teeth together. He's almost all the way hard now, his cock throbbing obnoxiously. 

Of course, since Louis is Louis, he doesn't simply pull on his joggers. No. He turns around again, facing Harry with a pretty flush on his cheeks. "You're awfully silent today, love", he says and pulls the legs of his pants up his calves. They look as soft as Harry's are, yet they're tighter around the ankles and in general. To get the waistband of them over his supple thighs and hips, he wiggles from side to side. Making his cock swing around, bouncing before he finally pulls them up all the way.

Harry's either gonna cry or come, he can't tell. And Louis doesn't fucking let it go. "Are you alright, Haz? All good?" There's a hint of a smile on his face and Harry just... bolts. He gets up, trying to look as composed as possible while doing it, but fails at hiding the visible strain of his prick. "Oh, that's-", he hears Louis say in his raspy voice, but doesn't stay long enough to hear the rest of it. Once he's in the hallway, thankful for a bit of cool air, he turns in search for the loos. 

Once he finds them, he closes the door behind him, stomps into the biggest stall the restroom has to offer, and slams the toilet seat down after locking the stall. His breathing is heavy, coming out in violent bursts. "Fuck...", he mutters as he pulls down his pants, letting his swollen cock stick out. It's gotten so thick that the veins of his shaft are obscenely visible; throbbing. Letting his big hand close around it, sticky with sweat, feels amazing, like the first pint of beer after a day full of interviews. 

The strokes he starts with are slow, pushing and pulling his thick foreskin over the head of his prick. There's a tiny bit of precum gathered on the slit already but Harry's taking his time, and he likes the dry burn a bit. He's also, truthfully, quite terrified of where his thoughts would go if he got too lost in it. Blue eyes, golden skin, a fat cock. He can't let himself have that. At least not as long as he can prevent it. 

It gets more difficult the longer he's at it though. It's getting good, his balls are full and squeezing them punches little whines out of his throat. The head of his cock is so sensitive that each touch from his hand makes him shiver, the precum catching on his hand making the glide up and down his shaft delicious. Fuck, he wants it. He wants him, always does, but especially now after Louis teased him for a few minutes. Harry can't get the image of Louis's body out of his head, and he's getting tired of trying. 

His strokes are almost violent now, using both hands to pull on his cock and squeeze around the head, occasionally his balls. He can't use his fingers, not now when his time is limited, but he wants to. Wants to push his fingers into his arse, a bit of a dry drag so it burns the way he likes. Wants to press against his prostate, imagining that Louis is the one doing it. The one fucking him. Giving it to him with his fingers and cock and mouth. 

When Harry allows himself to think about how nice Louis's prick looked in his boxers, how the soft fabric clung to his thick shaft and round balls, how nice that cock would feel pounding into him, he comes with a muffled shout. His come is shooting up and splashing onto his shirt and hands, absolutely drenching Harry in it, there's so much. Fuck, he's fucking done for. 

He's so out of it he doesn't even hear the restroom door click shut. 

*

The next time Louis shows him no mercy is when he figures out what's made Harry so flushed and nervous all day. 

Louis, Harry and the other lads are all on the bus, the one they only use when they're in need of a games night. Hotel rooms are nice enough but the comfort of their little lounge feels a bit like home. A couch big enough for all four of them is placed in the centre, a flat screen on the opposite wall. Pretentious for a tour bus, yes, but their money's got to be used for something. 

The thing is, Harry had decided today would give him the perfect opportunity to wear his favorite plug in public. He'd worked it into himself basically right after finishing his morning-routine, the plug's solid rubber length about two inches thick with a fake diamond on it's flared base. A pretty pink in colour. 

See, it isn't the actual sensation of putting it in that gets Harry off, although it does feel good, but rather the knowledge that people would be around him all day, not noticing that he had a fucking sex toy inside of him. Something to clench around and sit on that would give just enough stimulation to his spot that he'd stay alert and flushed. Deep down, Harry reflects on now, he might've made his choice because he was feeling like getting caught. By a certain person, maybe. Just maybe. 

Now that he's actually with the other guys, sitting squished between one armrest on his left and a suspicious Louis on his right, he kinda regrets his choice. 

The plug has been pressing against his prostate all evening, more intense whenever he leaned back a bit, and he was half-hard in his sweats. Thankfully he'd decided to wear tight briefs that make his situation less obvious. Less obvious to Liam and Niall who are obliviously playing some weird Marvel-inspired game, but apparently not to Louis. 

Every time Harry lets out a bit of a harsh breath through his nose, prompted by his arse clenching around the thickness inside of him, Louis eyes him from the side. Sometimes it's a small glance, other times a lengthy stare. Getting caught suddenly doesn't sound so stressless anymore. 

It doesn't stop him from exaggerating his sounds, though. In all honesty, it probably spurs him on even more. Louis's left arm is slung around Harry's shoulders and it moves each time Harry inhales deeply. As Harry grinds down on his plug for a split second, his throat clamps down on a little moan and the breath he lets out is shuddery. Obvious. 

Louis notices. 

Louis's head snaps to the left to stare at Harry intently, a crease between his eyebrows making his handsome face seem more serious than usual. Harry knows that he's just thinking, though. Connecting the dots. Louis is clever like that. 

Harry realizes Louis has caught on, actually figured it out, when he presses the arm around Harry's shoulders down to make Harry sink further into the couch. Harry's eyes clench shut with the effort of not moaning out loud. His teeth are biting at his bottom lip, harder and harder the more Louis pushes him down. When he finds the courage to turn his head and look at Louis, a desperate flush high on his cheeks, Louis just smirks. His blue eyes are sparkling, staring Harry down, and his pink little tongue occasionally wets his lips. 

Harry's body is clenching so hard around the plug that it's starting to hurt, his hole feeling tender and used although there's barely any penetration from his toy. The thick prick in his trousers has fattened up all the way and it's visible now, a bulge that's sticking out a bit. 

While Liam and Niall are still playing against each other, lost in the game and the explosions on screen, Louis is focused only on Harry. His right hand has found it's way onto Harry's outer right thigh, rubbing calming circles into it. His other hand, though, isn't letting up. The press against Harry's shoulders alternates between gentle rocking motions and harsh pushes, moving Harry on his toy as Louis pleases. 

Harry's sweatpants are a bit stained by now, his pre-cum having soaked through two layers, turning the cotton a dark grey where it was light in colour before. Louis's eyes zone in on that little spot as soon as it appears, and he clears his throat. Slowly, so very slowly - probably so that the other lads don't notice - Louis's right hand moves from Harry's thigh to the head of his cock. Air is stuck in Harry's throat and his fists are clenched. Oh fuck, it's happening. Louis is gonna touch him. 

Instead of squeezing Harry's cock as Harry had anticipated, Louis gives the head of Harry's prick a flick with his middle finger. The sharp sensation that follows makes Harry moan out loud, a drawn-out "uhhh" that would be loud enough to get them caught if it weren't for a loud bang from the TV that overshadows it. 

Harry's clenching around his plug almost uncontrollably now, his cock twitching and straining towards Louis's fleeting touch, and Louis leans in. His hot breath reaches Harry's ear and- "That was lovely, Haz. Good entertainment. 'm knackered now though." As quickly as Louis's close proximity was there, it's gone again as he gets up off the couch. "Gonna head to the bunks, boys, I'm a bit tired." 

Liam and Niall only nod in understanding and turn their attention back to the screen almost immediately. The little wink Louis gives Harry makes Harry's throat close up. Bastard. While Louis walks towards the bunks, his back turned to Harry, Harry sags against the couch's armrest. Lovely. 

He clears his throat and gives a quick "Night, lads" before he slowly stands up, his hands crossed in front of his crotch. 

Making his way towards the hotel is worse than those minutes on the couch with Louis because he now knows Louis won't give him any release tonight. He's left him with a hard prick and a throbbing arse, obviously entertained by seeing Harry suffer. 

Sometimes, Harry wishes he could hate Louis to balance out how much he fucking loves him. How much he wants him. 

*

Back in his hotel suite, it doesn't even take him a minute before he comes with a scream, leaning against the door, one hand squeezing his cockhead, the other one pushing his plug just a tiny bit deeper inside so the base presses against his abused hole. 

*

It's not like Harry is avoiding Louis per se, he's just- confused. Yeah, "confused" sums it up pretty well. See, Harry and Louis are best mates. They've been best mates practically since the day they met, which was over five years ago. Usually, they tell each other everything. Louis was the first person Harry came out to as gay and vice versa. They always spend time cuddled up together when either of them isn't feeling well. When they have problems. When they need comfort. 

Harry needs comfort right now. Because he's in love with his best mate. And since said best mate is Louis, his usual support system isn't working in his favour. 

Hence the avoiding. Harry just feels like if he saw Louis right now, his feelings would be written on his face for the world to see. The world, in this case, being Louis. (Which makes sense since Louis is Harry's world any other day.)

Niall [6.42pm]: Up for a pint lad xx

The text has been sitting in Harry's inbox for about twenty minutes now and he's not feeling it but then again, he's never been able to say no to Niall. And he wouldn't make tonight the first time. His friendship with the lads shouldn't have to suffer just because he can't keep his heart and dick in check. 

Harry [7.05pm]: down in ten 

Harry's been sitting around in a pair of blue jeans and a Packers crop top a cheeky fan had given him all day but he feels comfortable enough so the only thing he does is put his hair up in a bun, making himself look at least a bit more presentable. 

Louis would tell him he looks gorgeous if he were here and that shouldn't make Harry's heart beat faster but it does. 

*

The second Harry's walks into their hotel's private VIP bar and lounge, he spots Louis. He hasn't noticed him yet so he's chatting away freely with Niall and Liam, waving his hands around in an endearing way, looking gorgeous as ever with his fringe swept to the side and a hoodie on that's way too big on him. At second glance, Harry realizes it probably belongs to him. 

The closer he gets, the harder it gets to swallow. There's only a space left for him to sit beside Louis and Harry's happy about it in a "teenager with a crush" type of way. It's gross. Harry's not particularly proud.

"Oi!", Niall yells when he sees him, making the heads of a few other celebrity guests turn in his direction. He gives them slight nods and walks over quickly, giving his boys his toothiest grin, dimples and all. "Y'alright, lads?", he asks and sits down next to Louis, their thighs pressed together. 

Niall and Liam chat away idly, enough topics to go around so the conversation doesn't stall although Harry and Louis only throw in one-syllabic additions. Harry feels a bit bad about it but he just cannot turn his focus away from Louis, who's begun to give Harry's thigh little pats. Pat pat pat. That shouldn't make Harry twitch in his pants but it does. 

Harry's leaning his head on Louis's shoulder now, finding the comfort he desperately needs anyway. He just can't stay away from Louis. (Not that he tries particularly hard.)

When Niall and Liam get up to get more beer, Louis makes Harry stand up and step to the side. When he walks out and turns to Harry, a nervous flush is on his cheeks. God, Harry wants. "Love, could you sit by the wall? I've got to get something from my room but I'll be back in a minute." Harry's staring at Louis's mouth as he's speaking and he notices that if Harry didn't know him as well as he does, he wouldn't notice that Louis biting his bottom lip means he's nervous. 

"Harry?" Harry's eyes snap to Louis's and he sees more nerves there, a frantic side to how he's searching Harry's face for an answer. "Sure, Lou. As long as you come back." Harry doesn't aim to make it sound like a demand but it comes out like one anyway. Maybe that's a good thing. 

Louis gives a quick nod and contemplates something for a second before he leans in and gives Harry a quick peck on the cheek, his stubble only just teasing over Harry's skin. As quickly as his touch was there, it's gone again, and Harry can only stare after him as Louis basically sprints to the lifts. 

Harry's in a bit of a daze until Niall and Liam come around with more beer. They eye him a bit worriedly but continue their conversation because they known that if something was wrong, Louis would be the one Harry would talk to about it. 

When Louis joins them again, he's breathing heavily with sweat beading atop his lip from rushing to his room and back. The moment he sits down beside Harry, he puts his warm hand on the small of Harry's halfway exposed back. The simple touch makes Harry shiver, feels like a promise. 

The conversation starts up once more but Harry's absolutely done for now, what with Louis's other hand laying on Harry's clothed crotch. Oh. Oh. Harry's gripping the pint in front of him, trying not to let the surprise show on his face. Louis is working him slowly, moulding his palm around Harry's slightly swollen shaft. He feels out the head of Harry's cock and gives it a tight squeeze, almost pinching it. 

Louis is an active participant of the conversation around the table, not letting the other lads notice anything's up. Harry feels so obvious, sweat collecting around his navel and above his waistband, on the small of his back that Louis is still caressing. Fuck, it feels good. 

He's clenching his teeth together, holding onto his glass for dear life, as Louis continues to grip him tightly. Basically jacking him off now, with how hard Harry is under the denim. His prick's an obvious line from his balls over his thigh now, his long cock being teased and played with by the boy he's in love with, fuck. 

He can't even look at Louis right now, too embarrassed about the fact that he's letting him do this without protesting. That he likes it. 

Harry's getting desperate now, can feel the promising heat of an impending orgasm coiling in his full balls and tummy. He- he can't think. Can't do anything, really, too lost in the sensation of nimble fingers squeezing him-

And then it's gone. Louis puts both his hands back into his own lap and leaves Harry to fend for himself, almost ready to come but not quite. Harry's head snaps towards Louis as he stares at him accusingly, a silent "what the fuck were you thinking?". He's not hurt, not really, since he knows it's a bit of a game for both of them by now. 'Frustrated' fits better. 

There's basically no point in him staying with the guys now, too worked up to get back into the conversation and too nervous to just lay back against Louis's side until he's calmed down again. So he decides to head for the loo and finish himself off, as he's had to do for the past few weeks. 

He nudges Louis with his elbow and when he doesn't react, he leans in and whispers "Let me out, need to use the bathroom. Please." There's an obvious indication of what he wants to do. And there's a bit of asking for permission (since he was serious about that daddy thing).  
Thankfully, Louis stands and lets Harry leave for the toilets after letting him wait for only a few seconds. There was heat in his gaze when he looked at Harry, and Harry thrives off it. It puts a bit of a giddy energy back in his step. 

Harry wants to ignore what he looks like when he walks past the bathroom mirror but he can't. The flush on his face, the sweaty curls stuck to it, the thick bulge in his pants and the glistening on his abs and laurels that the crop top accentuates are mesmerizing. Louis did that to him. He made Harry look a wreck, and did so smugly. God, Louis is gonna be the death of him. 

Almost like in a deja-vu, Harry slams down the toilet lid once he enters the free stall and sits down on it, breathing out freely for the first time in maybe an hour. He's way calmer than he was out there with the other lads but he's still worked up, still wants to come to get it out of his system. 

Right as he's opened the zip of his trousers, he hears the bathroom door open and pulls out his dick as quietly as he can, not making a spectacle out of it like he was planning on doing. 

"Haz, it's me. Stop." 

It's Louis. Oh god, it's Louis. "Open the door. Please, Harry." Fuck Louis, he knows Harry could never say no to that voice. 

Harry doesn't bother putting his prick back into his pants, there's no point, and so he opens the stall looking a horny mess. A smile spreads on his face when he sees Louis looking at him sheepishly from under his long lashes, a tad embarrassed. "Sorry to interrupt, love, but I-", Harry pulls him into the stall and clicks the door shut. "Lou- Louis." 

The playfulness leaves his voice as his body reacts to Louis being close to him, like it always does. "What do you say, baby?" Harry's confused for a second before it dawns on him. What Louis expects of him. 

"Louis, please." The expectant look on Louis's face doesn't leave, though, and Harry swallows hard. "Daddy, please." The word alone makes his cock throb where it's jutting out of his pants and that's- he can't think.

Louis is kissing him. Prying his mouth open with his lips and pushing his tongue against Harry's, claiming him like Harry's needed. He's grabbing Harry's face in his palms, changing the angles of their kiss as he pleases. 

Oh fuck, Harry's close. Harry breaks the kiss and pants loudly "L- Daddy, please. Please fuck me." He needs it. He needs Louis's thick cock inside of him, giving him what he's been craving for months now. "Give me your cock, daddy, please."

That's apparently all Louis needs to put things into motion, turning Harry around and bending him over so Harry's got to push his hands against the wall tiles to stay somewhat upright. 

"Gonna give you what you want, baby. My beautiful-", he pushes Harry's jeans down, together with his pants, "- boy." Presented with the sight of Harry's plump arse, Louis gives out a drawn-out moan. "So gorgeous." Harry whimpers a little "daddy" and closes his eyes, embarrassed by how intently Louis is looking at him. 

He hears the click of a bottle being opened and suddenly realizes why Louis went back to his room. He's got the best Daddy in the world, taking care of everything. 

The first push of Louis's finger into his hole makes Harry clench hard and moan against his own arm. That alone shouldn't feel as good as it does. Louis opens him up with precise little jabs, first with one finger and working up to three. He spreads them, makes Harry gasp and choke on frantic breaths with how hard but sensually he does it, all the while stroking down Harry's back or kissing the nape of his neck. "My beautiful boy. You good?" 

Louis's voice is raspy, so hot to Harry who can barely form words anymore. "Y-yes Daddy. Good. Now, please- please fuck me like I need." So Louis does. With a quick kiss to Harry's shoulder, he lines the thick head of his cock up with Harry's tiny but stretched hole. "Breathe out, baby", he whispers as he pushes inside. 

Harry almost screams. The stretch is insane. It doesn't hurt, not really, but it's so much. Louis is so thick and long that it feels like whole minutes pass until he's finally completely bottomed out. A sigh of relief leaves Harry, his own cock throbbing as his arse clenches around Louis's girth. "Keep your hands on the wall, baby, don't touch yourself. Let Daddy do the work."

The thrusts Louis gives him are hard, quick in pace but so smooth Harry feels like he's in heaven. The cock inside of him hits his spot with every other stroke, Louis's balls slapping against his own as he's pummeled forward. "Uhhh, daddy- god, please-", Harry's mind is fuzzy with how good everything feels. Louis gripping his hips where the crop top doesn't cover his skin, Louis mumbling praises against his sweaty skin, pressing kisses against his back. "Daddy, l- love you s-so much", Harry whispers although his mind tells him not to, and Louis- 

Louis comes inside of him with a loud cry of Harry's name. Harry's feels hot come filling him up to the brim, Louis's arms caging him in, his chest splaying over Harry's back. "Baby- Harry, baby, love you", he moans against the side of Harry's neck and with the first touch to his prick from Louis's hand, Harry comes. 

He clenches around Louis's softening cock inside of him and comes for what feels like hours, his come coating the wall opposite him and his mouth opened around a silent scream. The last squeeze of Louis's hand around the head of his cock forces a pathetic little whine out of him and he sags against Louis, who's pulling Harry into his chest. 

When Harry turns around and hugs Louis against him, pushing his hot face into Louis's neck, he swallows back tears. They didn't think this through, what if Louis doesn't actually feel the same, what if the other guys don't approve- 

"Shhhhh, baby. You know, it doesn't justify how I've been acting for the past weeks but I may fancy you back, Harold. Have for quite a while, really." 

When Harry looks up at Louis from his hunched position, a hopeful smile on his lips and a happy glint in his green eyes, Louis presses a kiss to his mouth. It feels like a first.  


It feels like a promise.

* 

While it was all romantic in theory, straightening themselves out after confessing their love and fucking like rabbits sounds much easier than it actually is. 

Like always, Niall and Liam just pick up the conversation again. This time, though, there are knowing and relieved smiles on their faces. Looks like Harry was worried for nothing, really.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! please leave at least a kudos if you enjoyed my work. comments and bookmarks are very appreciated as well! 
> 
> hmu @vpascow on twitter  
> and philtatoslouis on tumblr :-)


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